


Prison

by OzQueen



Series: CP 100 situations [23]
Category: Captain Planet and the Planeteers
Genre: 100 situations, Backstory, F/M, Gen, Immortality, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-11
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 12:16:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/431083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OzQueen/pseuds/OzQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Such a lack of self control, Gaia. Such a streak of rebellion. Of course we had to punish you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prison

**Author's Note:**

> For the June 2012 challenge on the forum here on FFN, regarding writing about, or from the POV of, a character you rarely write.
> 
> I said I don't do first person POV, so naturally, my brain starts to guide me that way. IDEK. Also, Gaia! I love Gaia, but I've never written her to this extent. I decided to fill in her back-story, and I think I chose a rather odd angle. It's definitely different to anything I've written before.
> 
> Thank you, mudget, for your beta help!

* * *

I was so young. So young it's almost difficult to fathom. Though I wonder sometimes if it is ever possible to be _old_ when time means so little.

Being young did not excuse me from punishment.

* * *

I knew, at the time, that it was forbidden. I also knew that choosing a spirit of destruction, chaos and power was not – if I was going to break the rules – a wise partner to choose.

But youth has never been very good at listening to wisdom or reason; has never been very good at understanding self-preservation.

I think it's even worse when you're immortal and you have nothing but time on your hands.

* * *

"You said you'd be gone by now."

I lift my head from Zarm's chest to see him noting the position of the stars in the sky. "I fell asleep."

I have never been very good at keeping track of time when I sleep. Sometimes I wonder just how many years have passed as I've slumbered away. Time marches on and I slowly, slowly grow older. Gaining age and never achieving anything, never changing, never feeling a desire to seize upon something, lest it be lost.

With all the time in the universe, I am confident that I will have a spare moment or two to gain back any opportunities that may slip by me.

"It's dangerous for you to stay here too long," Zarm warns, but his fingers tangle in my hair again, and I succumb to his pressure and direction and kiss him again.

This is how I pass my time. Taking risks with a professional risk-taker.

I am bound to come undone. Luck runs out much faster than time does.

* * *

My arrest occurs as I sit at the edge of the sea, watching the peaks froth over the crystal points that spike from the ocean floor.

I am wrapped in unbreakable chains forged by the fires of the sun, and I am led away to be sentenced.

I knew it was a real consequence; a real danger. But I am still afraid. I have never seen anyone punished for this. I have only heard stories which are, at best, frayed memories or embellished tales of horror, passion, sacrifice.

I am not expecting Zarm to sacrifice himself for me.

* * *

Zarm sits in his throne of stone and crystal, beside his peers, and I realise immediately that he is safe; that he has never even been a suspect.

For a moment, I allow myself to feel relief. If it is not suspected that my lover is a Committee member, perhaps my punishment will be less severe than I fear.

The Committee, however, does not seem interested in finding out who it was I broke the rules with.

"Do you understand," I am asked, in measured tones, "what it is you have done?"

I lower my head, too young to feel anything but embarrassment and fear. "I have joined forces, physically, with another," I admit. I am careful not to look at Zarm.

There are no surprised murmurings or gasps of shock or dismay. My guilt is already known. I have, somehow, already admitted to my crime, while Zarm has slipped through the accusations without so much as a hint of wrongdoing.

"Do you understand the consequences of your actions?"

I force myself to keep my head down. If I look up, surely I will look at him, and they will put chains on him and punish him alongside me. It would break my heart, knowing I had sentenced him with one glance.

"No," I answer. Because I am so new I have never seen this crime broken. I do not know what the consequences are.

It takes me a few moments to realise they, too, are unsure of how I am to be punished. I risk a quick look at Zarm, but he is bent over in discussion with Strerd. Discussing my sentence.

I have not had the sense to fear consequence before. Being immortal causes you to fear very little. I am not sure there is anything they can do to me which will make me feel I was wrong for joining with Zarm.

But my sentence, when it finally comes, is beyond what horrors I am capable of imagining.

* * *

I am allowed three more sunrises before I am transported to my prison. I am locked in a golden cage, made of the same warm, unbreakable material of the chains I was wrapped in during Committee. A golden band is wrapped around my brow, identifying me as a criminal.

Even if I could escape the cage, I am branded now, as one who almost brought destruction and end to an entire society with her selfish desires.

Will be branded forever so.

I am allowed by the sea, my enclosure hung from an arch of crystal, so that my peers may pass by and offer judgement upon my misfortune.

Zarm walks by me, but he does not speak or look at me.

* * *

I begin to understand the consequences of my actions when I suffer what I believe is withdrawal. I begin to see Zarm's face when I am not sure it is really there, and I long for the warm muscle of his chest beneath my cheek, of the silken feel of his hair against my fingertips.

I finally understand what is meant by longing, jealousy, love. Hatred. And I do understand the danger of those things, now that they have me so firmly in their grip. Had I not been caught so soon – had I grown enough, learned enough, developed my own strengths and powers enough – who knows what I could be capable of in the depths of such despair.

I understand now that self-preservation is less about life and death and more about restraint and willpower.

Physically, nothing can stop us. It is our emotional side which could bring us our doom, which could rip our world and system apart.

It is, perhaps, lucky that I am so young. We only gain as we age, and I cannot imagine how I would cope if my emotions were any stronger than they already are.

Isolation is the key to success; the key to order and reason.

And so isolation is what I am sentenced to.

* * *

Zarm finally acknowledges me moments before I am transported. He offers me nothing more than traditional sorrow and farewell, kissing the inside of my wrists and clasping my hands as he bows his head and whispers my name.

"Gaia."

He is on the other side of my golden cage, and I hate him for it.

My hands fall to my sides when he lets me go, and I say nothing in response to his public mourning.

* * *

I could sleep. I could sleep forever, needing to wake for nothing, and simply let time steal by, marching on without any notice from me.

I could pretend, then, that I am suffering nothing.

I do sleep, for a while. I am not sure for how long. But when I wake, the first time, I am surprised by the changes which have passed.

Evidently, time matters in this place, even if I remain untouched by it.

My barren prison of ice, rock and crystal has changed somewhat. There is a sea surrounding me now, and the air is warm and moist. The wind has quietened to something soft and sweet.

I stand at the opening of my Crystal Chamber and I begin to wonder.

* * *

Strerd is surprised and stern when I contact him.

"You do understand," he says, his voice heavy with authority, "that this is the only contact with us you will ever have, Gaia? That one issue of communication is all you are allowed."

"I understand," I tell him.

"I thought you'd last a few _million_ years, at least," he says.

He looks no different. Neither does the chamber behind him. I can see Zarm's throne, though it is empty. No matter. I need Zarm for nothing.

Strerd is the one with the answers to my questions.

"I do not understand the rules which bind me on this planet," I say. It is difficult to put this into words. "I do not understand what I am and am not allowed."

Strerd has not expected questions. He has expected, I think, pleading and desperation.

"What am I forbidden to do?" I ask.

Strerd looks concerned. "You are forbidden contact with us once our link here is broken, Gaia. The Crystal Vision will not link you to us again. Ever."

"Will it work for other things?" I ask. Curious.

He seems unnerved by my attitude. Annoyed, perhaps, that I am not suffering.

"What other things?" he asks.

"Anything."

Strerd tents his fingers. For a moment, he looks at me almost admiringly, before his expression becomes serious again. "The only rules which bind you," he says, "are the rules of your isolation. You are not to contact anyone here."

"This technology won't allow that, after today," I remind him. "I couldn't contact you if I wanted to."

He nods his head once. Agreement.

"Things have changed," I say. "When I arrived, I was surrounded by ice. Now the ice is gone and I am surrounded by sea." I look out over the waves and try to explain the feeling of things here. "There is..." I hesitate. "A cell," I say. "An area to which I feel bound, an area which leaves me with my strength instead of sapping it from me."

"The Crystal Chamber," Strerd informs me. "There is an area outside of that – a cell, if you will."

"Such a small cell on such a large prison." I fold my arms. The band across my forehead glows warm, always, on my skin.

"It is your own doing," Strerd reminds me. "Such a lack of self control, Gaia. Such a streak of rebellion. Of course we had to punish you."

"Of course." My voice is tinged with bitterness.

 _And what of my lover_? I want to ask. _Why am I the only one being punished for an act that takes two?_

"Do you have any other questions?" Strerd asks.

For a moment, I want to linger. His is possibly the last voice I will ever hear. My home, my peers, my equals and lessers and betters – I am to be cut off from them for giving into desire. For threatening their upheaval with an act that leads to emotions too strong to rein in.

"There is nothing else," I say.

Strerd looks at me for a long moment before he nods, once, and the screen goes dark.

It could only be my imagination which allows me to feel the soft pressure of farewell kisses on my wrists.

I am alone again, and this time, there is no possibility of tomorrow bringing me any refuge from my solitude.

* * *

I do not sleep again. I set myself to exploring my prison.

I am able to leave the island – my cell – but it tires me, and I find myself returning to the familiar structures of crystal to regain my strength again.

I am so young I have not yet discovered my path, and it distracts me, for a while, as I try to figure out what I could be. (Or could have been. I am not sure this place will allow me to develop as I should.)

In my less rational moments, entwined with Zarm beneath the stars, I imagined myself ruling foreign worlds with him.

Gaia, Spirit of War.

It no longer sounds right. I wonder if it ever really did.

Zarm chose destruction.

I choose creation.

* * *

I have not created before. I make mistakes. Most of my first attempts are ugly and cumbersome.

Despite this, I do not consider it my fault when I lose most of my work.

I blame Zarm. I am not sure I should, but I cannot think of anyone who would send a love note such as this.

The impact is more destructive than anything else, but I don't mind. I allow myself to feel nostalgic for a moment, remember what it was like to give into love and foolishness... Before I remember that Zarm is still free to send his love and devastation through the stars, while I am left toying with the unknown, alone, fumbling my way toward a goal I am not even sure of.

I go back to sleep.

* * *

I am in a better mood when I wake. I set myself to refining my work, using Zarm's gift as an excuse for second drafts.

I can watch everything without having to leave my island. The screens in my Crystal Chamber allow me to see every realm of my prison. I use the wind and the air, the trees, the water. I watch my prison flourish under its own influence, with only the slightest guidance from me.

My pride is surpassed only by my loneliness.

* * *

There are certain creations I take special care with. I create as carefully as I can, but sometimes I am still forced to wait for the natural order of things before anything comes close to my initial idea.

I don't mind waiting, of course. But it's frustrating, unable to create a finished product myself.

* * *

The idea of creating a companion seems so dangerous that I return to sleep again, afraid of my own thoughts.

It was selfish desires like this which got me here in the first place. Apparently, I have not yet learned my lesson.

When it occurs to me that I can suffer no worse – they have already branded me and cast me into isolation – I decide to try anyway.

I already have likenesses starting to bloom and evolve across this place. They are beginning to look like me, and even act a little like me, which simultaneously thrills me and scares me. I keep my distance from them, but I spend more time watching them on my Crystal Vision screens than any of the other things I have created.

I forge my companion from elements I am most comfortable using. Things which bend and shape to my whim and desire.

Earth.

Fire.

Wind.

Water.

And, as a last act of rebellion, as defiance to the same rules which landed me here, alone, I add one more. Something unpredictable and dangerous. Something wonderful.

Heart.

* * *

I hide him. He is mine, and I am worried that somehow, he will be discovered, and taken from me. I forge him a cell not unlike my own, and enforce rules.

Only I can summon him. He is mine, a secret. Something I do not want to share.

Time does not matter to him, either. My other living things burst forth with life, and die quickly. Even those which last longest are dust in what seems to be no time at all.

But he is like me. He rides on the wind, he melts into the earth or the sea, and he does not wither or age.

I am careful to instil him with a sense of preservation. Having not had one myself until recently, I do not want trouble to fall between us. Selfish desires are what landed me here. He understands the only way to survive here is with care.

And I do not want someone like Zarm. Not again.

I am far off the path of destruction these days, and I like it.

* * *

I dub him Captain.

Sometimes I feel as though I am holding him in a prison within a prison, only letting him out when I want him. He tells me he doesn't mind, and he always greets me in a cheerful mood, so I am inclined to believe him.

Time matters not to him, anyway.

I know what I have done is wrong. Though Strerd never said so, I know creating another immortal is against the rules. I am not supposed to have anyone.

But death is so constant in this place, I find myself being worn down by it, unable to bear the sight of it.

My prison is green and flourishing, filled with colour and noise and life.

But dying all the time.

* * *

Time passes. I begin to grow bored with my prison. I am sick of death and destruction. Sometimes I feel as though Zarm would enjoy this place more than I do.

The Captain tells me to look on the bright side. I have been letting him out more lately, but I am still lonely.

I still do not understand why I am here. I feel as though I should have some understanding of what I am lacking; of what it was, exactly, which led to my punishment.

Captain asks me, once, but I find that I cannot explain it to him.

"I think," I say, carefully, "that I led with passion and impulse instead of logic and reasoning."

"A payment of eternal solitude seems a little harsh," he says. "If that's all you did."

"It's different there," I tell him. "Eternity is more fragile than you think."

I wonder how Zarm has lasted so long, being so admiring of disorder and chaos.

And then realise I have no idea whether or not he's still getting away with it. For all I know, he's on his own prison somewhere.

* * *

Now and then I feel connections to others. But their lives last such a short time, I dare not explore emotions like curiosity, love, or desire. I dare not grow close to anyone. (Sometimes I tell myself I have learned my lesson, until I realise Captain is always waiting for me.)

I am better at watching death now. I am able to accept it as an inevitability. But I still desire to distance myself from it as much as possible.

When these connections start to grow stronger – a soul here, a soul there, threaded to me with invisible force – I retreat into slumber.

* * *

I wake to find myself embroiled within a punishment of my own making.

My prison is all I have, and I suppose after a few hundred million years here, I am growing attached to it. And I am dismayed to find that with so much life, I have, somehow, created an end.

Perhaps Zarm's influence is not so easy to shake off.

It feels different. It tastes different.

I do not want to start again. It is not like before. I can feel too many lives this time, and I can't justify eradicating them.

This has been my undoing before. This attachment, this love, this stupid emotion which threatens to unravel everything. Why must it be so tightly binding?

I am suddenly grateful for my solitude. At least I have only brought this destruction upon myself and my own creations. Perhaps The Committee was right. Had I stayed home, free, who knows what abominations I would have brought upon my peers.

Even with all my creation and nurturing, my prison is wilting and suffocating.

(Though it is hardly a prison now. It is a home, and all I really have.)

I do not want destruction to win. I throw out lines, seeking help, falling to love and understanding once more in the hope that it will bring me salvation.

And I find them, five of them, quickly. And I know they are right, not only because I can feel their connection to me, but because I can feel their connection to the only other companion I have here.

I know now that love will always come with loss. So be it. For the first time in my life, I feel the need to seize an opportunity, lest it pass me by.

Despite eternity, I am not sure I will get another chance at this.


End file.
